


Makara Reborn

by FudgingPastry



Series: That God AU [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Death, Disembowelment, Gen, Gore, Hanged Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:12:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FudgingPastry/pseuds/FudgingPastry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The old god hung from the tree, their body free to swing in whatever breeze came through the God’s Valley. Years passed until many forgot the joy the name Makara used to bring. Of those who remembered the old god, they remembered their rampage and the destruction they brought over the loss of the one who was precious to them. Because of this, they feared Makara, as was right. However, the god continued to hang and the more people left the god in their old legends and their old stories, forgetting their kindness and their joy. Over a hundred years passed by and the old, weathered rope finally broke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Makara Reborn

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be a continuation of another piece I'm writing.

And so the old god hung from the tree, their body free to swing in whatever breeze came through the God’s Valley. Years passed until many forgot the joy the name Makara used to bring. Of those who remembered the old god, they remembered their rampage and the destruction they brought over the loss of the one who was precious to them. Because of this, they feared Makara, as was right. However, the god continued to hang and the more people left the god in their old legends and their old stories, forgetting their kindness and their joy.

Over a hundred years passed by and the old, weathered rope finally broke. The god’s body fell to the dead ground, the skeletal form crumpled in a heap. The body shook and shuddered and after a moment, they lifted their head. Their face was hollowed and gaunt, their cheeks sunken in and their skin as dull as death. A thin arm lifted to their face, the fingers prodding at their features and lifting up to stroke the once- and still-elegant horns. Obsidian hair lay limp and dead against their scalp and when they sat back, they lifted their head up to the sky and opened their eyes for the first time. Golden sclera surrounded purple irises, the pupils dilating in the clouded day.

They swung their head around and looked at their surroundings. The area around the tree was wilting and when they breathed in, they tasted death and decay. They shifted and saw that further through the trees, the decaying land transformed into green and brightness and life. With shaking limbs unused to holding up any kind of weight, they stumbled towards the green. Their limbs were thin and fragile-looking as if they were a skeleton with their skin stretched tight over their bones. They breathed heavily, though it was difficult at first. Their hand drifted to their neck and they felt the burns and the scars from the rope.

As they walked they noticed a feeling roiling around deep in their gut. They didn’t recognize it at first, only knowing that it felt hot, heavy, and it made their lips lift in a snarl. There was another feeling too, but in their chest. That one was heavy as well, but it was cold and it seeped through their chest until it felt like they were going to curl into a ball and die again. When they stepped into the light, they shook off the feelings and they looked up and down at the beaten path in front of them. Hesitating for a moment, they stepped out into the middle of it and stayed there.

A thought passed through their head and they reached for it and tried to examine it. Why were they here? Who were they? Did they have a name? They felt as if they did, but where they thought the memories were was locked up tight. Did they hold the key? Did these memories belong to them? Did they want the memories? Did they—

The sound of something coming up the path broke them out of their thoughts and they looked down the path as a wagon pulled by two horses came up the way. The driver was looking behind himself and laughing to someone. The wagon was headed right for them. They straightened, their pupils constricting and their clawed hands twitching as the wagon came closer. The hot feeling burned deep within them and they felt as though something was spilling from between their lips. When the wagon stopped, they realized it was a growl.

The wagon stopped and the driver looked on in fear at the skeletal creature before him. It stood like a man, but the horns and the claws suggested otherwise. The horses backed up a little as it growled and the man was faced with two options. One, he turn his cart around and they take a different path or two, they run right over it. The man narrowed his eyes and whipped his horses forward, choosing the choice that would leave the thing trampled and – hopefully – dead. The horses leaped forward and charged at the thing. Inside the wagon, he heard his wife and son ask him what was happening.

The creature, creature, it, the thing, names, what was their name, what was their name, their name, their name, their name—

A clawed hand snapped up, stopping the horse in its charge. The claws sunk into the horse’s chest and (namenamenamenamepickaname) Kurloz lifted their head, grinning madly at the driver. With a thrust of their arm, power laced through them and into the horse’s chest. It screamed as its body rapidly decayed under their hand, the spell running up through the horses head and front. The driver sat paralyzed in fear as the horse’s skin peeled off, its organs melting as the spell laced through it until it was nothing more than a skeleton and it collapsed. Kurloz spun around, their claws slicing neatly through the other horse’s neck and they jumped on the pole between the horses. They leaned forward, grinning their sharp teeth. The man leaped back with a cry of fear and Kurloz’s hand shot out, catching the man by his neck. They squeezed just enough that the man scrambled and struggled for air and their claws sliced through the man’s gut. With wide eyes, the man was disemboweled, dying when the creature crushed his neck.

The wife screamed in terror and tried to flee. Kurloz jumped after her, grabbing her leg and pulling back. The leg came off with a crack and a shriek of pain. With that same grin on their face, they jumped on the woman’s back and clawed down her back, ripping right through her spine and killing her with a swift slice to the neck. They straightened, their grin fading and they lifted their face to the sky.

Their name was Kurloz. They were… They frowned. Images flashed through their mind, shaking and flashing, but they moved to fast for them to understand. They tried to reach out for them, their hand lifting to the sky when… Something was crawling away from them. Their hand snapped out and they grabbed the boy by the shirt, turning him around to face them. Tears streamed down his face and he was babbling, sobbing out pleas and fearful gasps and asking them to please, please, please don’t kill me! Don’t kill me! Please, please, please, please… Kurloz frowned, peering into the boy’s mouth. What was that? In the boy’s mouth, what was that flapping around? They reached into the boy’s mouth with their free hand and stroked their fingertips down the flat muscle. Confused, they reached into their own mouth, past their sharp fangs, and they stroked the bottom of their mouth.

There was nothing there.

The images came fast and they came hard and they shook and rattled inside their head. Memories of death and destruction, hate and anger, sadness and loss and everything from before rattling through their head. They saw his body broken and ruined. They saw the drider just out of their clawed reach. They saw the tree where they’d be hanged from. Their tongue hung from her hands while they grinned and laughed; the sound broken and terrible.

In their shock, they dropped the boy who laid frozen in fear as they bent over on themself and they screamed. Kurloz stepped back from the wave of memories, shaken but aware. They were a god. They were Makara reborn.

They straightened, their gaze falling on the boy at their feet. The people of this landed needed to know. The god needed a messenger. The memories surfaced in their brain and, locking eyes with the boy, they passed those flashes of memories to the boy. His eyes widened and his mouth opened in terror as Kurloz’s eyes flashed purple. The boy bolted, flashing images of Makara’s wrath and destruction filling his head. A string of garbled words trailed after him: **TELL THEM WHO I AM.**


End file.
